The Shadow of Victory. Reed Myrtle

      At the end of the week there was a diversion which was entirely unexpected—as most real diversions contrive to be. Mrs. Mackenzie was in the garden, planting flower seeds, when soft footsteps sounded on the bare earth beside her, and a sweet voice said, "How do you do, Aunt Eleanor?"

      "Why, Beatrice!" exclaimed Mrs. Mackenzie, kissing her warmly. "Where did you come from?"

      "From Fort Wayne, with Captain Wells—he's across the river. I rowed over by myself. I was so afraid you'd see me coming and wouldn't be surprised."

      "My dear! I'm so glad!"

      "Maybe you won't be, when I tell you. I've come to live with you, Aunt Eleanor."

      "That makes me happier still," said Mrs. Mackenzie, in her stately way. "You are welcome."

      "Thank you, Aunty; but I haven't come to be a burden to you, and I trust I never shall be. If I'm ever a trouble, I want you to tell me so and send me away. In the first place, I have fought most terribly with my aunt and uncle at Fort Wayne. They don't know I've come."

      "Why, my dear! How could you?"

      "Oh, they know it now," said Beatrice, laconically, with her head on one side. "If they don't, the suspense will do them good. Anyhow, they know I'm not there, and that's enough. You know I have a little income of my own, Aunty, so I'm not dependent upon any one, and I'm going to pay my board. If you won't let me," she continued, warningly, seeing disapproval on Mrs. Mackenzie's kindly face, "I'm going back with Captain Wells to-morrow, so now!"

      "I'll let you do anything you want to, dear, if you'll only stay with me. I have needed a grown daughter ever since Katherine was married."

      "Then it's all arranged, and I'll stay with you for ever. I know I never could fight with you."

      "Here comes your uncle."

      The trader beamed with delight when Beatrice cast herself upon him and kissed him twice. "I've come to live with you," she said, "and I've just fixed it with Aunt Eleanor. Captain Wells is over at the Fort with the soldiers. We brought ten with us—it was quite an army, and the Captain kept up military discipline all along the trail, with me for First Lieutenant. They're going to stay at the Fort, and I'm going to stay here." She pirouetted around him in high spirits.

      "You're welcome, Bee; but how did it happen?"

      "I fought," explained Beatrice, carelessly. "They told me what I should do and what I shouldn't. Nobody ever says 'must' to me. If you ever want me to do anything, you'll have to say 'please.' Would you mind going over to the Fort after my things, Uncle? I've got a big box with all my worldly goods inside of it."

      Mackenzie went, for men always did as Beatrice suggested.

      "Come in, dear," said her aunt. "You can have the east room, so you'll get the morning sun."

      "How sweet you are, Aunt Eleanor," murmured the girl, with her arm thrown around the other's shoulders, for she was even taller than Mrs. Mackenzie. Her face had the deep, creamy tint which sometimes goes with violet eyes and brown hair with auburn lights in it. Beneath a short nose, tilted ever so slightly, was the most bewitching mouth in the world—small and perfect in shape, dangerously curved, and full of a daring coquetry. When she smiled, one saw that her teeth were small and white and absolutely even, but soon forgot that minor detail. At first glance, no one would have called her pretty; she was like something beautiful which must be studied before it is appreciated.

      The arrival of the visitor had effectually broken up the school. "Tuzzin Bee! Tuzzin Bee!" crowed Maria Indiana, delightedly.

      "You darling," cried Beatrice, catching the child in her arms; "have you remembered me a whole year?"

      Robert was introduced as "a cousin on the other side of the house," and he bent gravely over the girl's hand.

      "Are we truly cousins?" she asked.

      There was a confused silence, then Robert found his tongue. "I trust we are," he said, with the air of a gentleman of the old school, "for you are the first flower of Spring."

      The door burst open and Ronald entered. "What do you think," he shouted; "we've got troops! Captain Wells has brought ten soldiers to the Fort!"

      "Miss Manning," said Mrs. Mackenzie, "let me present Ensign George Ronald, of Fort Dearborn."

      Beatrice bowed, but he stared at her for an instant, then brought his heels together and raised his hand to his forehead in military salute. There was an awkward instant, then the deep crimson dyed the Ensign's face. He turned—and bolted.

      From the window Beatrice saw him, in a pirogue, pulling back to the Fort as if his life depended upon it, then she laughed—a deep, sweet, vibrant laugh, that thrilled Robert to the very depths of his soul.